


Astraphobia

by ZombieJesus



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note: Another Note
Genre: A little cute and fluffy, But after B left Wammy’s, Fears and memory, Inappropriate Behavior, M/M, Obsession, Power of Names, Promises, Secrets, Some feels, Strangers to something else, Takes place before LABB timeline, Thunderstorms, Wammy House, dash of angst, kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 12:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14811566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZombieJesus/pseuds/ZombieJesus
Summary: L occasionally goes to Wammy’s incognito, but this time, someone is already in his cottage, eating his cake and taking shelter from the violent thunderstorm outside.





	Astraphobia

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rise13eyond](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rise13eyond/gifts).



> Astraphobia is the fear of lightning.

It wasn’t often that L decided to visit Wammy’s House, but when he did he was always incognito, slipping in and out like a ghost during his rare meetings with Roger. He made it a point never to be seen by the children, and it was as much for their protection as for his own. New faces were rare as sunny days at the orphanage in the soggy England countryside, and just as likely to be remembered. The secret of L was his shield and his salvation, and theirs.

 

So it was in the middle of the night of a particularly loud thunderstorm when L drove his 1965 Aston Martin up the long driveway of Wammy’s House with his headlights turned off. He worked his bottom lip anxiously between his teeth as the wet gravel crunched under creeping tires, the driver’s side window leaking as antique gaskets met their match in the torrent. L pulled around back and down a more narrow drive to a little cottage in the woods behind the main building. It was off-limits to the residents, hidden and cozy enough to conduct his meetings with Roger in private away from prying eyes.

 

He turned the car off and took a deep breath before plunging into the rain, umbrella forgotten, shoes forgotten. Just making a mad dash to the door and twisting the key, dreaming of the dry warmth of the fire he’d light, the--

 

L stopped short and his eyes went wide as he stood dripping in the open doorway, lightning flashing behind him. Someone was already here, sitting on the floor of the living room underneath a huge down comforter that L knew at once had been dragged off his bed.

 

“Shut the door!” The lump under the blanket voiced a loud complaint but didn’t turn around.

 

L looked out into the downpour, thinking perhaps he should go back to his car and get his forgotten phone to call Roger, but his curiosity overwhelmed his caution. “What are you doing in here?” He stepped inside and shut the door behind him, clothes sopping wet as he stood in an ever-growing puddle.

 

“Eating your cake, I imagine.” The lump shifted a little and as L walked cautiously closer, he saw that indeed a large plate of cake was rapidly diminishing as a fork moved quickly in and out of the blanket.

 

“It’s very rude to break into people’s homes and doubly rude to steal their cake.” L crouched in front of the blanket, hooking a finger in his mouth, but all he could see was the fork darting in and out.

 

The lump laughed, the fork pausing in mid air. “I didn’t just eat your cake. I first ate all the jam and cookies and cupcakes that old vulture left for you.” The fork darted inside and out. “Stole your blanket too. So what.”

 

“So I would have thought they’d teach you better manners here.” L frowned, irritated to hear his cottage had been cleared out of sugar, and tried to snatch the remaining plate of cake.

 

But the lump engulfed it, and after a moment, slid a perfectly clean plate out from beneath it with a off-kilter giggle. “Nope!” The fork shot out to join the plate with a loud clatter, and the blanket burped as punctuation.

 

L sighed at this childish behavior, thoroughly intending to have a few words with Roger about this whole situation later. He stood up and yanked the blanket off in a smooth motion, exposing the surly-looking occupant. But L gasped softly as he took in the odd person beneath; their eyes were red as embers and seemed to glow in the dim shadows. And they weren’t a child or a student either, although the person was perhaps younger than he was. L dropped the blanket and took a step back, on his guard now and trying to place the familiar-seeming face. “Who are you?”

 

The person stared at L for a good silent minute, eyes flicking to a point above L’s head and then back down to wide grey eyes. A satisfied smile spread across his face that L could only interpret as mischief, “You can call me B. I suppose you couldn’t be bothered to know the former students of this place.” He wrapped the comforter back around him, but shivered and ducked back underneath it when a loud clap of thunder boomed outside. “Shit!”

 

L ran a thumb along his lip as he grasped at that memory--yes, he recalled Watari mentioning B to him. The most promising student at Wammy’s at one time, but had run away a few years ago after...L stopped himself from remembering that, and instead wondered why B was here, now, in this place. Why had he returned to Wammy’s? Did Roger know, did Watari? Was this something to worry about? But L deduced that if someone was this afraid of loud noises they probably weren’t much of a threat to him. Thunder crashed again outside, illuminating the cottage windows and L heard more loud swearing from under the blanket. He walked over to the fireplace, chucking a few logs into it, watching B from the corner of his eye. “Are you afraid of loud noises or just thunder.” L knew he should probably throw the intruder out, but curiosity once again stopped him.

 

A muffled response, “It’s not the thunder it’s the lightning.” He peeked out, just a little. “Have you ever seen someone hit by that?”

 

L took a matchbook from the mantle and struck it, flicking it into the logs along with a few more. Deadpan, “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” He crouched by the nascent fire, letting the growing heat warm and dry him.

 

“Well it ain’t a pretty way to go.” B flung the blanket off and pretended to convulse violently, then stopped abruptly, devolving into laughter as he grinned at L.

 

L stared at him blankly then a slow smile cracked the edge of his mouth. “So B, why did you come back to Wammy’s, in the middle of a thunderstorm no less?”

 

B’s red eyes shone, and he crawled forward closer to L. He mimicked L’s crouch, holding his hands close to the fire too. “I always come back on this day.” He gazed into the flame, and the golden light flickered on his face, nearly as pale as L’s but not quite. “To remember.” _His birthday. His death day._

 

L’s memory was excellent, and he instantly recalled that today was in fact the day when, three years ago, Watari had sent him an email with the news of A’s death and B’s disappearance. It was a tragedy for Wammy’s, and a personal failure for L. He didn’t have many regrets in his life, he couldn’t afford them, but that was one. But he also knew there was little he could say to B to convey that, so he stayed silent. Prodding didn’t matter now.

 

The silence didn’t last long.

 

“You’re L.”

 

L’s eyes shot up and met B’s, his finger trailing away from his lip. “Yes.” There was no point in lying when the statement was made with such certainty. “That was either a good guess or you know something you aren’t telling me.”

 

B smiled, “Perhaps I know a lot of things I’m not telling you.” He leaned closer to L, close enough to smell the rain on his clothes, the chocolate bar he’d eaten in the car on the drive through the English countryside, the grease from the leaky window gasket he’d tried and failed to fix. “Like maybe I didn’t eat those cupcakes after all. Maybe I hid them for safekeeping instead.”

 

L hummed hopefully, wishing dearly that that was the case. His eyes were unblinking, feeling slightly mesmerized by B’s expressive ones, despite their unnerving color. He tried not to sound too eager, “Well where are they then?”

 

B leaned back again, wagging a finger. “Uh uh! Maybe I tell you where they are if….” He stroked his chin, pretending to think it over. “...you promise not to kick me out tonight.” Grumbling, “I don’t have anywhere else to go around here, and they’ll raise hell if I show my face at Wammy’s. Never liked me there.”

 

L looked outside, and thought it would be rather cruel to send anyone out into that, especially a former student afraid of lightning. “I suppose that can’t be helped given the weather conditions.” But really, L was becoming more intrigued by the moment. There was something both disturbing and vulnerable about B, and truthfully, L was rather impressed that B looked so much like him when he mimicked him. An odd talent, but it stroked his ego in a way he wouldn’t admit.

 

“In that case…” B grinned wide and scooted over to the couch, pulling a covered tray of strawberry-iced cupcakes from underneath it. He pushed the tray over to L, “I always keep my promises.” _Like the one I made to him. I came back._

 

They dug into the cupcakes, neither worrying much about manners or the crumbs all over the rug. L paused mid-bite into his third one, “Why didn’t they like you here?” Subtlety was never one of his stronger suits, but he didn’t feel like it mattered to B. Like being direct and blunt was actually preferred.

 

B barked a laugh, cupcake pieces flying into the fire. “Eh, guess I was always starting fights and being...” he rolled his eyes and used air-quotes for dramatic effect, “...inappropriate.”

 

L snorted, “Like breaking into people’s homes and eating their food without permission?”

 

B shrugged, downing half a cupcake in a single bite. But when another thunderclap struck outside, B flung himself at L, the rest of the dessert smashing in his hand as he buried his face in L’s wet shirt.

 

L froze, as he was completely unused to having anyone unfamiliar so near and especially touching him. But he could feel B trembling against him and instead of pushing him away, let his hand hover a moment over B’s back and then pat it awkwardly. Softly, “Ah, so more like this kind of inappropriate.”

 

B didn’t let him go, just held on tighter as the thunder rolled again. But he was slowly relaxing into L’s soothing touch, his forehead resting less stiffly against L’s chest. He closed his red eyes and whispered, “I know another secret. I know your full name. I’ll prove it if you promise me something.”

 

L didn’t believe that could possibly be true; no one but Watari and Roger knew that and under no circumstances would they ever reveal it to a student. “Promise what...”

 

B opened his eyes and gazed up at L, “If I’m right, you promise to kiss me.”

 

“That would be entirely--”

 

“Inappropriate?”

 

L sighed, “Yes, it would.”

 

L hadn’t said no, not yet. The smirking amusement was back on B’s face, but L hadn’t pushed him away so he felt bolder. “My bad reputation here was well earned.” B could see the clockwork machinations behind L’s eyes, weighing the likelihood of outcomes. But L didn’t know he had an ace in the hole, that the game was rigged and had been rigged from the moment he came in wet from the rain. L didn’t know about his eyes and what they saw, no one did. “Yes or no?”

 

“Yes.” As the words left L’s mouth, B’s expression changed from watchful anticipation to triumph. L’s heart began to pound as it did in the extremely rare moments when he’d been outmatched, tricked, the odd exhilaration of a break in his expected pattern of certainty.

 

“Lawliet.” B whispered in his ear, but it was loud as a real thunderclap to L. B moved closer, bending to whisper it again into L’s neck like an incantation, “Lawliet.” He brought his head up slowly, meeting L’s shocked gaze now, waiting for the questions of how.

 

L could only let that name wash over him like the rain, nearly foreign with rusty disuse, savor its taboo notes like the icing still on his tongue. Perhaps no one had ever called him that out loud; he couldn’t remember even if they had. It was a forbidden word that might be written or thought, never voiced, never spoken. And it was an icepick plunged into a dam, sending fissures up concrete until L shivered, unblinking. “Say it again. One more time.”

 

B brought his face closer, breathing the same air as the man he’d idolized for so long, wanted to become and failed to become, wanting now to taste and be tasted by. A human being in his grasp and not the avatar that he shadowed. He watched L wait for it, barely breathing, like an addict waiting for the rush to kick in, to strike. He smiled, hesitating but then finally letting it roll of his tongue like honey, “L Lawliet.” But when L’s parted lips met his to keep their bad-faith promise, B’s heart began to pound as it did in the extremely rare moments when he’d been outmatched, tricked. He’d be the one chasing this high forever, this deadly electricity, wouldn’t he? He’d be the one reaching into the sky and pulling down lightning, and he couldn’t hear the thunder anymore.

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanted to see this in the LABB timeline, this could be a beginning or solidification of B’s obsession with L, and where he learns what L looks like. L said in Another Note he hadn’t met or seen B before, but L’s not always exactly 100% truthful with Naomi. 
> 
> If you want to see this as a happier meeting, perhaps they become friends (or more) after this and L brings him back into the family business.
> 
> I’m on tumblr: [kiranatrix](https://kiranatrix.tumblr.com)


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